64 -.r , . . .. Y. .. . >. ..; . ) . ..... ^ \ ....,. . t\ . ø. ..,., II. "." : . .':' ".:. . ':" .:..::..;" THE NEW YORKER, JUNE 7, 1993 -r- ,i, :s -, <t' .,.,',. .', ,. ... -., ) --- , ,.{. .. - .:' ''-.... ,:: . ' ..' , ._.: --....... .-\ . . - "'.. 11P I Ø<--- '.;.;- '0\, ... . 4: :'- , -// , · If " ì r, .. ... 1'* \ ' . :' jf ' ;--.. .1 11 1) {, Jl UlJ l ., "If you represent speclal interests, I can seat you immediately." preying on three of the delinquent boys entrusted to his care in a group home. Father Provost was our pastor. Now, with the indictment, he had joined the ever-growing legion of priests-by that time they numbered over four hun- dred-who had been accused in the last decade of sexual misconduct with chil- dren and teen -agers. I MET Father Provost for lunch a week after the indictment was handed up; it was the first time I had seen him in eight months. When he greeted me on the street outside AI & Harty's Restau- rant, on Main Street in Worcester, I could see that he had gained some weight, but that otherwise his looks hadn't changed. He has a full head of gray hair, short on the sides; WIth a small wave in front. His face IS smooth and young-looking. His front teeth are usu- ally in evidence-he has a vague ever- present smile, which seems to indicate little of his mood. That day, he was wearing a sports shirt and dark trousers; it was the first time I had ever seen him in anything other than clerical garb. He felt tired all the time now, he told me, and would be happy when "all this is over." He was sleeping a lot, watching some sports and news on television, and going for a daily walk. He couldn't con- . . centrate on reading. He had read a bit in the first weeks at St. Luke, but then had lost the urge. The days dragged on, with nothing to fill them. Trying to understand something of his early life and the roots of his voca- tion, I asked about his family and child- hood "0 h, it was wonderful," he said. I asked about his seminary training. "It was excellent." He said nothing about why he became a priest-what or who had inspired him. When I asked about his life as a parish priest, his face dark- ened and the smile left. He told me that, while he loved parish work, seven of the eight pastors he served under had been " " H . d " Th mean. e sal, ey never gave me anything to do." As for his work in our parish, he said that it had exhausted him. I expected to hear of endless rounds of sick calls, the time needed for preparmg sermons, the demands of readying young couples for marriage, and too many meetings, but Father Provost mentioned none of these. "If this hadn't happened, I would have had a nervous breakdown," he said. "I was up until eleven o'clock so many nights. Four hundred bulletins-do you know how long it takes to turn them out each week?" "What about your prayer life, Fa- ther?" I asked. "How was that going?" He looked at me quizzically, and hesi- tated. "Oh," he said, and paused again, then added, "Outside of saying the Mass, I really didn't have any." He talked at length about the spirit of com- munity he had found among the other pa- tients at St. Luke, J which specializes in the treatment of pedo- phile priests. Father J Provost said he was now required to be a member of the W or- cester chapter of Sex and Love AddIcts Anonymous, and con- fided that he had been quite shocked by some of the stories he heard, most notably the story of a gay man who had had sex with as many as fifty partners in a week. The look on Father Provost's face was that of a young boy who was amazed that a grown per- son could do such a thing. Nonetheless, in these lonely days the group provided him with a sense of belonging to some- thing, he said. He was optimistic about his chances of being acquitted, and was sure that the lawyer the Church had hired for him, James Reardon, who had handled other cases of alleged sexual abuse by W orces- ter priests, was first-rate. Again and again, he said that he would be happy when "this is all over." And after that? Father Provost looked down into his plate. He said he knew that his days as a parish priest were finished. 4 ,. ," " '" W HEN I went to see Father Pro- vost's own pastor, Bishop Tim- othy Harrington, of Worcester, I was somewhat surprised to find that he had gathered his counsellors about him: Auxiliary Bishop George Rueger and Monsignor Edmond Tinsley, the dioc- esan director of fiscal affairs. We talked at the Bishop's residence, a handsome, spacious Tudor home on Worcester's west side Bishop Harrington, who is seventy-four, had welcomed me into his living room dressed in a brightly striped